


Push

by seki



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teasing leads to something rather more.</p><p>(For Yagyuu's birthday)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push

"Oi, Yagyuu, I’m boooooored."

Yagyuu glanced over his shoulder at Niou, sprawled on Yagyuu’s futon — when had that gotten unrolled? — and with an expression of stubborn mischief plastered across his features.

"Finish your report," he said, turning his attention back to his notes.

"I did. And now I’m bored."

"I’m not done with mine yet. You’ll have to entertain yourself."

Niou made a huffing noise, and Yagyuu subsequently found himself focusing more on the sound of Niou poking around his room than on the report he was supposed to be writing. He gritted his teeth. Matsumoto. _Right_. Average rainfall. Landmarks. Population density.

"Yagyuuuuuuu, where’s your porn, huh?"

Yagyuu gestured vaguely over his shoulder, towards the chest of drawers near where his futon was stored. Tourism industry. Public transport. Public figures of note.

Niou made a humming noise, obviously rummaging around in Yagyuu’s drawers, and it was only at that point that Yagyuu’s brain caught up with the idea of Niou looking at _porn_ in his room.

Shit.

"Hmm," said Niou, now back on Yagyuu’s futon, when Yagyuu glanced over his shoulder in as disinterested a fashion as he could manage. "Such boring taste, though. This what you’re into?"

Yagyuu sighed. “Problem?”

"Pfft." Niou flipped through the pages. "Just a bit bland. Oh, this one’s okay, looks like she’d be fun." He lowered his face, peering closely at the page. "Ah, they’ve covered up something on her arm. What do you reckon, scar? Tattoo? Hideous deformity?"

"I don’t expect it matters."

"Yeah, though. I could go for her, that mouth and those eyes. She looks… feisty."

Again, it took Yagyuu’s brain a half-minute to connect the sound of jangling with the realisation that Niou was unbuckling himself. Shit.

"Don’t jerk off on my futon,” he said sharply, deliberately not looking over his shoulder. “Take that to the bathroom, you idiot.”

"Prude."

"I’m a prude because I don’t want to listen to you getting off? Then I’m a prude, yes."

Niou snorted. “Remember when we used to jerk off to stuff like this together? You weren’t so uptight then.”

"We were middle-schoolers, Niou-kun. It was different."

For a start, back then Yagyuu’d almost been able to convince himself he was interested in the girls in the magazines. It had taken a while for him to realise that Niou's reaction was provoking more arousal in him than the pictures did, and it hadn't been a pleasant revelation.

Niou made another thoughtful noise, and then — horror of horrors — he draped himself along Yagyuu’s back, one arm brandishing the magazine in front of Yagyuu’s face. Yagyuu froze; Niou was _hard_ , and his cock was tangible and firm against Yagyuu’s lower back.

"Niou-kun, I’m busy," he protested, pushing the magazine aside firmly.

"Yagyuuuu, c’mon." Niou plucked Yagyuu’s glasses from his face, and held them out to one side. "Seriously. This magazine is too tidy, too tame. This is the porn you keep around so your mother’ll think you’re a healthy young man. Where’s the real stuff? Is it kinky?"

Yagyuu, his face burning, leant forward to try and see his work. That meant Niou’s erection was pressed more firmly against him, but he tried to ignore that.

"What is it, chains? Bukkake? Old women?"

Yagyuu straightened his spine, and made a futile grab for his glasses.

"Ah-ah, not until you fess up," sing-songed Niou, his face now so close that Yagyuu could make out every pore even without glasses. Too close, too warm, Niou’s body plastered along Yagyuu’s spine, his breath ghosting across Yagyuu’s cheek. He dropped the magazine on top of Yagyuu’s report. “For real, tell me.”

" _Masaharu_ ," Yagyuu tried, desperately, "please—"

“ _Hiroshi_ ,” and Niou’s voice was low and teasing, and then he kissed Yagyuu hard on the mouth.

Yagyuu froze. Fuck.

Niou tilted his head, his mouth moving against Yagyuu’s lips as if trying to encourage him to reciprocate, and something in Yagyuu’s hindbrain took over and he kissed Niou back, his hands reaching up to pull Niou closer.

Niou kissed like he always had in Yagyuu’s fantasies; long, slow slides of his tongue against Yagyuu’s, little gasping inhalations as their lips parted and refastened, one hand still holding Yagyuu’s glasses but the other one flattened at the back of Yagyuu’s head. Yagyuu found himself turning for a better angle, so Niou was pressed along his side instead of his back, so he could grip at Niou’s shirt.

It was Niou who pulled back after a while, falling back onto his ass, looking like he was more surprised than anything else.

"Oh," he said.

Yagyuu stared for a moment, and then turned back to his report, shoving the magazine aside, blinking furiously against the sudden sensation of panic curdling in his stomach. Three years he’d spent making sure nobody could know, three years of deliberately never looking around in the showers or the locker room, of smiling at girls and never, ever letting himself admit that he found boys far more appealing. And at least two years of trying not to admit that Niou featured in a lot more of his daydreams than was healthy. And one stupid kiss had probably ruined all of it.

"That was supposed to be a joke," said Niou.

"Yes." Yagyuu knew it sounded terse, but it was better than not responding.

"Um. You’re a good kisser."

Yagyuu bent his head back down over his work, swallowing the lump in his throat.

His glasses were carefully lowered back onto his face, from above, gentle fingers tucking the arms in over his ears. “Here,” said Niou, from right behind him, sounding apologetic. “Sorry.”

Yagyuu raised his hand shakily, adjusting his glasses, aware that Niou had retreated immediately back onto the futon again.

He managed to copy out a whole sentence about local infrastructure — which probably made no sense in context, but at this point the report was probably doomed — before Niou spoke again.

"So, guys. _That_ ’s what you — jesus, Yagyuu, couldn’t you have told me sooner?"

"Is it actually any of your business?"

“Yes.” Niou made a huffing noise. “Shit. Look. I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to do, kissing you like that.”

Yagyuu sighed, and turned around to face Niou properly. “Why did you, anyway?”

Niou was hunched in on himself, cross-legged on Yagyuu’s futon, staring down at his hands. He looked… ashamed. “I thought you’d shove me off and then give me your real porn just to shut me up.”

"Ah."

"I meant what I said after, though." Niou looked up at Yagyuu, through his lashes. "If you weren’t, well, gonna punch me for it, I’d ask you to make out with me some more just because _damn_ , that was a hell of a kiss.”

Yagyuu could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks, and ignored it. “I think that would be unwise.”

"Yeah? Yeah, maybe." Niou pulled a comically wistful face, and then flopped backwards. "Shit though. Hotter than that magazine. Guess I’m more gay than I thought. I mean, I knew I was curious, but, wow."

Yagyuu looked at Niou, sprawled out on his futon, still visibly hard and unbuckled and faintly flushed and so stupidly _tempting_ that every fibre of Yagyuu’s self-control was strained. “Curious?”

"Yeah. I mean, I wondered about kissing guys. What it’d be like."

"Ah." Yagyuu shook his head. Not nearly enough, not nearly curious enough, then. "If I made out with you, Niou, it’d go further than just kissing."

Niou looked startled, and propped himself up on his elbows. “Meaning?”

"I’m interested in you, sexually. I’ve thought about it before. Touching you, kissing you, getting you off. A lot. Do you understand?"

Niou flushed even pinker, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he moved, abruptly scrambling to his knees and crawling forward to kneel in front of Yagyuu. “ _Fuck_ , then, Hiroshi, go for it. Kiss me, touch me, all of it sounds really good.”

"Niou-ku—"

“ _Hiroshi_ ,” breathed Niou again, and then his lips were against Yagyuu’s and Yagyuu suddenly found it hard to remember why this was a bad idea. They wound up tangled together on Yagyuu’s futon, Niou arching against Yagyuu with every kiss, moaning appreciatively as Yagyuu’s hands slid up underneath his t-shirt.

For someone who by his own account had only thought about _kissing_ before, Niou was surprisingly eager when it came to stripping Yagyuu down to his underwear, and pressed his own naked thigh up between Yagyuu’s with no apparent fear of touching Yagyuu's cock.

Yagyuu, in fact, was rather more tentative and uncertain than Niou seemed to be. Niou pressed hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses against Yagyuu’s neck and shoulders as he bucked up against Yagyuu’s hip, and Niou shuddered and shivered shamelessly as Yagyuu nipped at his ears and collarbones, and it was Niou who slid his hand downwards to cup at Yagyuu’s erection and then murmured, “Can I?” and Niou, who, after they’d both come into each other’s hands, kept on kissing Yagyuu as if the taste of his mouth was more important than oxygen.

"We need, mmrf, to stop," whispered Yagyuu eventually, between kisses, his clean hand cupping the side of Niou’s face. "Masaharu, please."

Niou looked annoyed for a moment, then rolled away. “Okay, okay.”

Yagyuu located his discarded glasses, then found some tissues on a shelf. They both cleaned up in silence, pulling their clothes on. Yagyuu kept sneaking sideways looks at Niou; was he really okay with what they’d just done? Niou’s expression just looked like he was deep in thought, which could mean anything.

As he pitched the last tissue across the room into his wastebin, Niou grabbed his hand.

"Hiroshi."

"Ni—Masaharu?"

"I want that to not be a one-off. I know that’s… I don’t, okay? "

Yagyuu nodded, slowly, and Niou visibly relaxed.

"Mmm, good. Gonna blame you for turning me, though, damn."

"I thought you said you were already curious."

"Details, details." Niou grinned. "Alright, um. I guess you really should finish your report, huh?"

Yagyuu glanced back at his report, on the table. “I might need to schedule some extra study sessions with you, at this rate, just to catch up.”

"Mmm, no objections from me."

Yagyuu carefully sat at his table, unable to stop himself smiling down at his report. Niou, meanwhile, sprawled out on Yagyuu’s futon again, grinning up at Yagyuu’s ceiling.

Yagyuu smoothed out the top page of his report. Well. The sooner he finished, the better, really, under the circumstances. Niou wouldn’t wait forever.


End file.
